A Mother's Influence

I took a piece of plastic clay

And idly fashioned it one day, 

And as my fingers pressed it still, 

It moved and yielded to my will.

I came again when days were passed;

The bit of clay was hard at last, 

The form I gave it still it bore, 

But I could change that form no more!

I took a piece of living clay

And touched it gently day by day, 

And molded with my power and art

A young child's soft and yielding heart.

I came again when years were gone;

It was a man I looked upon;

That early impress still he wore, 

And I could change that man no more!

-Anon.